


After the Fact

by Scavenger98



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Alien Invasion, Heavy Angst, Interrogation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 03:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5612314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scavenger98/pseuds/Scavenger98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On that day, Annie Leonhardt made a choice, and the Earth fell into the hands of its greatest enemies. On that day, Jean Kirstein lost every friend he had to the treachery of one of their own. On that day, Eren Yeager was taken prisoner and humanity's last hope shriveled on the vine.<br/>But endings always give rise to new beginnings, even if they are four years in coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Fact

**Author's Note:**

> So, this particular idea came to me after watching the fanmade Power Rangers short film that hit the Internet recently. I don’t know why interrogations are so fun to write; the character interaction involved just intrigues me.  
> There are mentions of past Ereannie here and a lot of offscreen character death both stated and implied, so if that isn’t your cup of tea, you’ve been warned.

“Well, well, well…” The cuffs are cold and tight on her wrists; she can barely move her arms. The chair is similarly unforgiving metal. But all of that amounts to Playdoh in comparison to the man across from her. His scarred face is different from what she remembers. The deaths he has witnessed have burned away the selfishness in his eyes. “You know, for the longest time, I was sure that someday it’d be _you_ sitting at a table interrogating _me_. Funny how probability fucks up sometimes.” She doesn’t fill the pointed silence he leaves. She doesn’t feel the need to. She doesn’t owe him a single thing.

“Well, you never _were_ one for conversation.” He leans forward, his eyes shadowed by his dark brown hair, gleaming with challenge and accusation. “But monologue, _that_ you had the gift for. So if you could do your word-vomit thing, it’d be appreciated.”

“Go fuck yourself.” The words tumble out before she really knows it. Almost a day she’s been in this makeshift cell with nothing to do but sit, pace, and think. Now, she finally has one of the people she hates most in front of her. The release provided by even those few small words is awe-inspiring.

“Oh my, what would your dear old dad say?” The sarcasm rolling off of the soldier is palpable, and for a second she can see an echo of whatever Jean Kirstein once was. Annie grits her teeth behind her lips, eyes narrowed. She has to control herself. “Eh, probably best we don’t know. Old man Leonhardt always _was_ judgmental. I doubt he would have appreciated the whole ‘selling humanity out to space monsters’ thing.”

“You mean the humanity that conscripted us into a special ops unit when we were barely fifteen?” Jean raises an eyebrow and leans back in his chair.

“We were attacked out of nowhere by a vastly superior enemy. I’d say we had a big damn hill of moral leeway, especially over someone like you.” She doesn’t have a response and quite frankly shouldn’t have needed one in the first place. The silence stretches on for a few seconds.

“I’ve been wondering for a long time, you know. You turned everything over to them. Mikasa, Marco, every one of our friends dead or as good as, and yet somehow you walked away scot-free. What did they promise you, Leonhardt?” Annie locks eyes with the man, and lies.

“What do you think? I figured I should come out on the winning side.” His eyes narrow, and his fist comes down just a bit too hard on the table, standing up so suddenly that his chair is sent toppling backward.

“ _Bullshit!_ Your little life was never that important to you, it was always mission this, or all costs that. They had _something_ to hold over you.”

“Oh come on, Jean, I knew you. If there’s one thing you should understand, it’s putting your own wellbeing first. Last I checked, selfishness came as naturally to you as breathing.” He’s gritting his teeth, gaze burning into her.

“I watched my best friends die trying to save the world from the monsters you let through. I needed a reason to live. Just doing it wasn’t enough anymore.” He grinned at her and she almost shivered. It was a ghostly, dead sort of expression. “Still, I can’t imagine you just giving up. So what exactly changed your mind?”

“We were losing.” The soft, matter-of-fact statement hangs in the air for a few seconds, and she can see the smoldering anger in his eyes, the long-restrained vengeful fury just below the surface. She doesn’t know why she’s even telling him this. She should stop. “Dad and Bertolt died taking the Colossus out of the sky, and then Reiner cracked. No matter what we did, there were thousands dying every day. We couldn’t win, we never could have.”

“So you just decided to cut your losses and give them the one thing they wanted? Just hand him over?” Her eyes flash; he’s finally struck the right nerve.

“Don’t you talk about him like a fucking bargaining chip. I saved the last person I gave a shit about, saved the entire human race in the process. If the others had to die to make that happen, then so be it.”

“So that was it.” And he’s smiling now, even worse than he was before. It’s a terrifying mockery of something real, so entirely wrong that she can’t make herself look away. “Humanity fights a losing war, millions sacrifice their lives for the cause, and all of it ammounts to nothing, because some teenage girl couldn’t keep it in her pants.” And he laughs. Jean Kirstein laughs and it’s the single most broken sound she’s ever heard.

It hits her just how long this man has been fighting. It’s been a little over a decade since Maria Outpost went dark. Six years later, the second Colossus arrived in the night sky, all thanks to her. The war ended that night, for everyone.

But this man didn’t get the message and doesn’t seem likely to ever do so, no matter how many years he has fought. In his own, strange way, he’s stronger than her, stronger maybe than Eren. But everyone has limits, and it seems he’s reached one.

“So what was your grand master plan, eh? Pull him off to some private island and fuck over the corpses of your dead comrades?”

She glares back, holding on to the last shreds of self-control. “They would have blown us all out of the sky if I hadn’t let them in. I did what was necessary.” The smile is no more natural looking for its incredulity. In fact, it only seems be getting worse and worse: less focused.

“And delivered us handily into the arms of slavery and slow, torturous death! What, you thought he would understand? That he wouldn’t hate you for forcing us to surrender? You thought Eren Jaeger, the Suicidal Bastard, would thank you for spitting on every ideal he had?” The laughter is back, and she begins to wonder what barrier she’s broken in him. What has he lost now? Her own questions help distract her from whatever his are dredging up.

“I wish I could have been there for that conversation. Would have probably been the single most hilarious thing I’ve ever seen.”

_He’s not quite angry yet, but he’s confused and when he finally understands, the betrayal is far too real for her to ignore. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him yell this loudly._

She looks down at her restrained legs and frowns. “With your sense of humor, probably.”

“Well, guess what, fuck-face? You can fix all of that right now if you just tell me how to get to him.” He seems to have most of his composure back; the smile is gone, but his gaze is less steady, manic almost. “I’ve found our answer, Leonhardt, the way we can still win. And all I need now is Eren. Tell me where he is.”

“Bullshit.” But she can’t quite bring herself to follow her words. There are a million ways to misuse Eren’s abilities, but if Jean knows a way to singlehandedly take back the planet with them, it’s something grand and terrifying. No victory will be anything but pyrrhic.

Eren wouldn’t care. He hadn’t before, and he wouldn’t now. And no matter how much she tells herself that he’s better off safely locked away, she can’t remove the hollowness from that truth. _‘He wouldn’t care about his safety. He never did.’_

“You and I both know that Eren’s powers can’t be controlled. How many innocent people will die for your idiotic idealism?” He glares down at her, eyes full of more hatred than she can truly fathom.

“Mass murder is _your_ kink, Annie. If I was crazy enough to just loose him on the Titans, I would have done it years ago.” He’s right, right about everything, and in the space of a few moments, her web of justifications crumbles to dust.

She’s failed him, and even weighed against the lives of ever person on the planet, to carry on doing so is too much to ask. Mina, her father, Bertolt, Reiner, every innocent person she watched die because she wasn’t good enough. Eren is the last one standing.

Even if it is belatedly, she can’t let him down too. She can’t raise her head, can’t open her eyes; can’t do much of anything except utter the words.

“They’ve got him at the South Pole Detention Facility, lower levels, cell 825.” She can’t tell if Jean is smiling, but his voice has regained its natural sarcasm, so she assumes he isn’t. It feels right, in a detached sort of way.

“Thank you.” And maybe it’s just fanciful thinking, but she thinks she can detect some genuine contentment in the pronouncement. She feels the cold touch of metal against her head, the unyielding pressure of the barrel on her scalp.

“I’ll see you in Hell, Leonhardt.”

She doesn’t have time to enjoy it, but for the first moment in eight years, she feels free.


End file.
